Curse the French
by Feathery-Dreamer
Summary: In which France uses improper French and Canada has a mental break down. Or the day Canada corrected France's French.


Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia

A/N: I found this in a folder where I half aborted fics in. Touched it up and voilà...

Anyways, I always wanted to try parodies and I've decided to write a bit more in hopes it'll quick start my muse to finish stories...

That said, I swear I mean no harm (I don't wanna offend anyone and really this might be the reason I shoved it in the Folder That Will Never See the Light of Day).

So back then I had been reading some fanfic where common French mistakes were made by online translators (but honesty it's actually quite good for simple sentences) and while it didn't really detract from the story, it still made me wonder what if the French speaking countries actually heard the translated mistakes that came out of France's mouth?

This might have been done already, if so, then this is my take with a highly OOC Canada and probably France too.

This fic was made purely for comedic value or rather, my take on why a Frenchman would make such mistakes in a story.

Enjoy! (and sorry for any mistakes in French and English) and see the notes at the end for a rough translation of the words used.

* * *

« _Oh le Canada, mon petite ange_! » cried France.

The young blond man stopped, or perhaps froze would be the more accurate word. He had almost let go of his fork along with the lettuce and chicken that was on it, but somehow, despite his surprise, his food managed to find its way to his mouth again.

Canada chewed thoughtfully, his eyes never breaking contact with the man. He was surprised that his elder brother had remembered him. Despite being known as the second largest country, territory wise, across the world, it seemed the knowledge of his existence never really passed on to the other representatives of the nations. It was a phenomenon he could not explain very well...That however was neither here nor there.

What truly made him stop was not the sudden acknowledgement, it was the...French that was used...He was pretty sure his ears were ringing because of that.

He stared at the eccentric man. France truly did not seem to understand what had just transgressed. Perhaps it had been his tired mind that had heard wrong?

"I'm sorry? Was there something you needed?" he asked ever polite.

« _Oui_ , _mon l'amour,»_ he smiled and continued, "I just wanted to talk to you and give you some advice!" the man flicked his hair out of his face and his smile radiated brotherly fondness, "But before that, _comment tu aller_?"

Now Canada was usually a very perceptive nation. As such, he would have picked up if something was wrong with his brother figure. He'd spend a lot of time with him once upon a time as a colony, and now as part of " _La Francophonie_ " he'd maintain contact... but right now his attention was occupied by the other's words rather than his non verbal body language.

He tried valiantly not to let his jaw drop at what he heard...yet again. He looked around, the meeting was on a break, and no one seemed to find this odd...

He frowned, perhaps France was merely mocking his French accent, after all it wasn't the most refined, and had a lot of... personality to say the least, but he'd never make that kind of mistake.

Determined to not let the jibe affect him, he replied in his perfectly grammatically correct French.

 _«Je vais très bien, merci.»_ Canada bobbed his head pleasantly, _«et vous?»_ he pushed back his glasses and levelled a calm stare at the man that was now sitting next to him.

" _Je vais bien...mais_ , well now that you mention it _ma lapin_ ,"Canada cringed, but managed to hide it by shovelling more of his chicken caesar salad in his mouth. " _Pas tout a bien tourné_ ,you see that stupid _L'Angleterre_ , will not shut up about _un chose_ I supposedly told him years ago!" France dramatically cried, "He did not want to talk like adults...and instead he did something horrible _ma petite_..." The Canadian's violet eyes glazed before his fork slipped from his fingers.

The Frenchman never got to finish his story as he was surprisingly and quite rudely so, cut off by the Canadian.

"Are you possessed? Did you hit your head? "

" _Quoi_?"

" _Tu t'ai tu frappé la tête ou t'es juste possédé? C'est pourtant simple comme question_! Non?" the slew of Quebec's fine French spilled from his lips. The fact that he forgot to modulate his colloquialism and speaking improper French, as France would normally say, spoke volumes of his stress level. Contrary to what France said, he was aware that if he said things like that it usually leads to confusion among the French speaking nations.

" _Non,_ _Non,_ I'm not possessed and _ma tête est belle_! _Tout ce que vous a donné cette idée?_ _"_ France sounded genuinely confused and he felt compelled to say it again, "I am not possessed!"

Needless to say this alarmed the Canadian more than anything. How could he not realize what was happening, France was too composed, had he known he would be dramatically flaying around screeching reproaches or whatever he did when he was horrified!

The conference chair clattered to the floor as Canada stood up abruptly. His eyes were wide with a mixture of horror and his telltale quiet voice had been discarded to include his more...rambunctious French side.

"You are! You must be!" Canada accused, pointing his finger rather rudely in his face. Forgoing personal space and social etiquette, he cupped his brother's face moving it harshly side to side, up and down, searching for any wounds or anything else for that matter that would explain this.

France cautiously grabbed the Canadian's hand away from his face; each movement slow and steady, telegraphing them, so as not to startled the young nation.

He then tried guiding the nation back to his seat in a sad attempt to calm thing down, but Canada would have none of it. "Your French, it's weird...it doesn't make any sense!"

" _Ma petit_ , calm yourself and let's sit down okay?" France's lips quirked up in a reassuring smiled.

Said smile did the exact opposite unfortunately, "There it is again!" he blurted out, "You've been mixing the genders of the adjectives and determiners and...and..!" the blond chocked a little.

Everyone was looking at them, at the scene he was making. He would be appalled and horribly embarrassed by his behaviour later. Then he'd apologize for making a scene, and then in the comfort of his home he would laugh about the irony of him, Canada, correcting France on his French, but for now, he would ride his damn hysteria as damn well as he pleased, thank you very much!

"And your last whole French sentence, let's not even mention that...I have no clue how where to begin!" the blond cried outraged, " _Ma tête est belle!?_ What, where you try to even say!? I mean yeah sure, it is grammatically correct, but it doesn't make sense if...if you take into consideration the context!" He babbled violet eyes widening in sheer panicked momentum, "I mean sure your head is beautifully, but I mean ...What?" He grabbed the Frenchman's shoulders and shook him, "What even... was that!?"

There went his coherence, oh look there goes his sanity too.

The silence was rather oppressive after everything he had said, though the not quite well muffled laugh that came from England clued him pretty quickly on how the situation came about.

France glared at the British man before ushering away the hysterical Canadian from the meeting room.

They walked together aimlessly until he deemed the younger nation calmer. He stopped in front of Canada to patting his head soothingly, "That is what I wanted to tell you, truly Mathieu, you are overreacting. It is a simple curse it will pass. Besides, I wanted to warn you about England." He shivered, "Just don't go near him for now and you will be fine..."

* * *

Translation Notes (with the equivalent english mistakes...sorta):

 _Oh le Canada, mon petite ange =_ Oh the Canada, my little angel

 _ _Oui,_ _mon l'amour =__ Yes, my the love

 _ _Comment tu aller_? = How you do?_

 _ _Je vais très bien, merci, e_ _t vous? =__ I'm very well, thank you and you?

 _Je vais bien...mais_ = I am well...but

 _Pas tout a bien tourné = Not everything is going well (A/N: That was the original sentence that I translated using a translator. I'm not sure how to explain it but the sentence is off. Personnaly, I think it'd be more accurate to translate it as "Not everything has turned well"...or something. Then again maybe I'm wrong...ah well)_

 _ma petite_...= my little A/N : so basically my little one, but for girls.

 _Quoi_ = What

 _Tu t'ai tu frappé la tête ou t'es juste possédé? C'est pourtant simple comme question_! Non? = Did you hit your head or are you just possessed? It's a simple question though! No? (A/N Where I live, it would make perfect sense, but it is not however grammatically correct.)

 _Non,_ _Non =_ No, No

 _ma tête est belle_! =My head is beautiful!

 _Tout ce que vous a donné cette idée? =_ Everything that gave you this idea?


End file.
